The Eye Can See
by Closed-Off-Vermillion
Summary: It's been 5 years since the events of Mallet Island, and Vergil is back, drawn to his younger twin. What drew him to Devil May Cry, and his estranged brother is a mystery that beckons to be solved.


Fire.

That's all he's seen for the past 5 years, all he has felt.  
There was only one instance where the heat was overpowered by something else.  
It felt more like a generation, instead of what would be half of a decade.  
Time was the only sensation he could truly fill in this place.

At this point in time, the heat no longer bothered him. The flames felt like the wind, a constant force. It was something you'd gotten used to.

' _Vergil. It's time to wake up, sweetheart.'_ The voice returns each year with its promises in the form of his motivation, his muse. On his journey to gain power, that was his beginning.  
 _'Might, controls_ _ **everything**_ _'_ His own words, used against him, time and time again. His anger flared each time the voices came, mocking him for his failure. For his imprisonment in this place, and his supposed inability to get out.

' _Y'know what we used to say, Verge?' The memory of his brother's face flashes before his eyes. Hair as white as his own, and eyes too bright for his own good. A smirk in place, happily joking with someone who had tried to kill him multiple times. With too much_ _ **love**_ _for the human realm_ _ **,**_ _too much love for his humanity to let him go._ _ **  
**_ _Even as his own brother cut him for selfish reasons, the boy dared to shed a tear for his sake._

" _Jackpot." The words are in unison. Two souls combined as the flame died.  
_ It was the first time he'd spoken in years.

His eyes snap open, and then. Everything around him is shattered, and extinguished.  
He doesn't feel anything but an overwhelming sense of rage, forcing this plane of existence to shake unsteadily as things around him collapsed. As his bonds were no more, allowing him to get free.

 _ **"DANTE."**_ His voice is raw from years without use of it. The power of his demonic rage was enough to tear the barriers that kept him trapped within this world.  
It would be a short time before Mundus would reach him and put a stop to this. The phrase 'Now or never' came into play, as he walked through the portal.  
It was time he paid his twin a little visit.

By the time he'd arrived, it was in the dead of night. How very fitting.  
He can practically feel his brother's presence from the outside of the shop, pulling him toward the younger twin.  
He has to have him, has to **see** him, without knowing what was causing him to gravitate toward the younger man.  
Power, something he'd always desired. For a majority of his life, that was what he sought, the very thing that kept his existence in strong spirit. He would've killed thousands, even millions to gain the might to control his destiny until the end of eternity. He would still kill thousands in exchange for **control**.

Without power, nothing could be protected, nothing sacred would remain. It would all go down in flames, like his home.  
Just like mother, father, and even himself before now. 

The white haired twin approaches the door, placing his palm against wood, and pushing forward with little force.  
In effect, the door splinters, only shards of thick wood left in its wake. It wasn't what he'd intended, but nonetheless, he was in the shop.  
He spots Dante from across the room, and he simply stares, without saying a word.

It only occurs to him now, how he must look. Barging into Devil May Cry, fresh from the underworld. His appearance is haggard, skin paler than it was before his descent. He no longer resembles a corpse like he did on Mallet Island. But he is not the same, and hasn't been such in a decade.  
He's older, the same age as his twin of course. Yet, he still carried the air of maturity beyond his years. Still oozed immense amounts of self-confidence and arrogance.

Vergil could be struck down at any moment, but that would not change what kind of person he was and what kind of person he would be, even in death.

"Hello, little brother."

"Verge…" Dante's gotten older as well. While his body aged in these 5 years, Vergil couldn't tell if that meant the other had matured at least a little bit.  
His fashion sense hadn't gotten any better, if anything to go by.  
The younger man had always preferred gaudy red and black pieces, in whatever flashy order he'd prefer.

"Before you go on about how I'm probably a clone because of the fact you 'killed' me, I'd advise you stop. You only succeeded in sending me back to the Underworld, much like Mundus. It is where all the demonic are sent when slaughtered in this realm. Come to think of it, I'm not sure of what would happen if one were to be slaughtered in hell. It wouldn't be pleasant, I'm su—"

The demon hunter kicks the desk toward him, guns drawn.  
Within that moment, Vergil stops the object with his foot, jumping out of the way as the gunfire begins.

"You're only makin' this harder on yourself, buddy." The hunter taunts, voice filled with a venom that only demons could provide.  
Holes are blown through the cover of the desk, and the eldest knows he can't hold out there for very long.

"Have you always been such a little shit? Then again, you really do answer it without speaking." Vergil replies, before summoning up his remaining demonic energy for a trick.

' _Yamato, come.'_ Suddenly, the blade breaches the floorboards from below, and makes its way to the handsof the previous owner. With frightening speed, he lunges forward, driving the ancient blade through Dante's abdomen.

"There can only be **one** of me, little brother." He swiftly removes it from the other's torso, sheathing the weapon.  
In the next moment, everything is a blur. Before the older man could realize it, he's falling forward, unable to grab hold of anything to slow his descent.

" _ **Vergil!.. Ho-**_ " He hears only his name, before everything goes black. __


End file.
